


Inheritance

by Mismaed



Series: Generations [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Connie Conagher, Dell isn't the best choice to be a parent, Family, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, I'll add things as we go along, child oc, heh, teleporting mishaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mismaed/pseuds/Mismaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a distant cousin passes away, Dell Conagher finds himself the legal guardian to her child. What he didn't expect was to become so attached to the darn girl.</p><p>*note: Updates for this are few and far between, but I promise they're still coming. School and work come first, and all that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inheritance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place before Dell is hired by RED

It was a small group that found themselves gathered in the graveyard that evening... but, then again, theirs was a small family. One would assume this would mean they were a tight knit bunch. Quite the opposite was true, however, for at least for one member of the clan. 

Dell Conagher. 

The ever social boy of their childhoods, the life of family parties- he who ran about shooting pop guns with his cousins had grown into the smartest of the bunch in the blink of an eye. Being a mere seventeen years old and graduating from college with your first degree tended to put a wedge between family members who hadn’t so much as bothered with finishing high school, regardless of if the distance was intentional or not. No, Dell hadn’t talked to any of his family much after leaving Bee Cave, nor once he returned to take over his grandparent’s ranch when they passed on. Gone were the days of pop guns and watermelon, laughter and giddy conversation among family friends. She had been one such friend.

Elaine had been the fastest of the group, and certainly a hell of a lot more accurate than Dell when it came to shooting watermelon seeds. That aim of hers almost always resulted in him losing their mock wars at familial gatherings, with the exception of the few times he’d managed to hide away long enough to put together some crafty trap for the other. He had been rather fond of tripwires and miniature trebuchets back in the day. 

When it came time for him to go off to school she’d be the only of their group to write. Usually, it was her asking him to explain something she’d run across in math. English was her strong suit, not numbers. They kept up their relationship like this, younger cousin going to college for the first time mentoring the other as she pushed her way through the final years of high school, until one day the letters stopped. 

Eventually, he’d moved back to Bee Cave- having inherited a bit of land to call his own and a machine shed he could make use of his new engineering degrees in, yet still no word. Attempting not to take it personally, Dell dove head first into his work. When next he heard of Elaine it was to find out she’d gone into cardiac arrest and passed away.

Somehow, he was taking it a bit personally now. 

Here they all were then, gathered around a casket which had just been lowered into the ground. The closing prayers had been said and the grave digger was just beginning the process of the actual burial. Those who had taken the time to come to the ceremony were now departing, one or two stopping to exchange farewells with the engineer before moving to escape the confines of the cemetery and return to the safety of their homes and families.

The sun was starting to set and Dell could spot clouds rolling in over the horizon, grey masses ominous and promising rain. He couldn’t help but sneer slightly at the threatening weather as he picked at the rubber glove on his right hand, being sure it was secure. As if the situation wasn’t upsetting enough, mother nature had to pop in with her most overused trope: rain at a funeral. 

Turning his back on the impending insult and casket alike, blue eyes dart across the landscape to settle on a figure watching the funeral disperse from a short distance away. They’d been standing there, watching over the ceremony and waiting patiently for things to wrap up. He waves to the engineer, inviting him to meet him and it’s then that Dell spots the shorter figure next to the first, a skirt flowing about her small shape as the wind picked up. Sighing to himself, wanting nothing more than to get this situation over with, the engineer treks over to the pair.

“Mr. Conagher.” The other greets him, holding out a hand. Dell takes the offer, shaking hands briefly before pulling back and staring at the other expectantly. Now that he was closer he could see the professionalism surrounding the fellow- his suit was pressed, hair combed back and shoes shined to the point it was almost distracting. Even his smile was well polished, perfect teeth framed by a clean shaven face that reminded Dell of his own stubble. 

“So… You’re the lawyer fellow then.” The inventor finally responds, gaze dipping down to the girl standing beside the pair. She couldn’t be more than three.

“Mr. Erving, yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Dell doesn't bother gracing that bullshit with a response, and instead continues to observe the child at his feet. She seemed distant, to say the least- he was no child psychologist, but he was fairly sure this age group was typically more energetic. It was to be expected though, he supposed. Her mother had just died, after all.

The businessman didn’t allow Dell’s attention to wander for long, as he soon gives the girl a small pat on the shoulder. “Why don’t you run along.” He suggests, waiting for her to move a few feet away and seat herself among a cluster of dandelions. Satisfied, Erving turns back to the man before him and smiles once more. “Have you thought over our conversation from last night, Mr. Conagher?” 

Without taking his eyes off of the child as she plucked several flowers, Dell nodded slowly. “Yeah.” She was stringing her plants into a chain now, and he was rather impressed with her patience and skill with the task given her age. Turning to the man with whom he was speaking, Dell lets out a deep sigh before shaking his head. His expression is one of exasperation when their eyes connect. “I don’t know what you expect from me. I didn’t ever know Elaine had a kid. I don’t even know the girl’s name.”

The lawyers face drops then, and he too lets out a slight sigh. “It’s Constance. Constance Conagher, to be exact.” Fishing around in his pocket, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from it’s confines and looks to the engineer, his new expression- one that Dell couldn’t quite place… pleading?- somehow much more sincere than the forced smile from before. “And I was hoping you’d take her. I’ve already explained, her father is nowhere to be found, we don’t even know who he is. Elaine specifically stated that Constance was to go to you should anything ever happen to her. If you don’t accept her, well…” Cigarette now lit, he closes his eyes and takes a drag off of the tobacco, exhaling slowly before finishing his sentence. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain the process of orphanages to a man of your intellect.” 

That tone was cold, accusing even. It made Dell mentally cringe. His eyes dart to the toddler again, she was just finishing turning her chain into a crown, and was rising to her feet. “I’m between jobs right now.” Dell states, voice wavering and uncertain. 

“You had enough money to retire at the age of thirty, Mr. Conagher. I’m certain you can manage.”

Constance was making her way over to the pair of men again. She wasted no time in striding confidently up to the engineer and looked up at him expectantly, tiny fingers wrapping about his pants leg to give the material a light tug. 

Dell didn’t want to crouch down to her height, he really didn’t… and yet he found himself doing just that. He turned away from the conversation, squatting down to look her in the eye. He didn’t have his goggles for once, nor was there the safety of his hard hat to protect him from the innocent stare that was assaulting him. The pair sat like that for a minute, the younger studying her elder silently until she finally spoke. “Are you Dell?”

He was taken by surprise by the question. He hadn’t been sure what to expect but somehow he hadn’t expected the girl to be so well spoken- no tripping over words, no abnormalities in volume and with a confidence that suggested she already knew the answer. 

“I am.”

Once given the confirmation, she steps closer, causing the elder to freeze as she climbed onto him, delicate shins resting on his knee. Ignoring his discomfort, she reaches up to place the crown atop his bald head before quickly leaping down. She admires her work for a few seconds before turning about and heading back to her flowers.

Unsure of how to react to the encounter, Dell stands, a hand raising to gently touch his newly acquired headwear. A finger brushes lightly along one of the knots holding the flowers together and he can’t help but smile to himself, a slight upturn of the mouth, granted, but a smile nonetheless.

“So,” Tossing his cigarette to the ground, Mr. Erving rolled his shoulders and smirks triumphantly at the other. “Shall I be sending the paperwork in the morning?”

Glaring at the other man, Dell crosses his arms. He was ready to say no, absolutely not- his lips had even parted in preparation to relay this decision, and yet… She intrigued him. He’d be lying if he told anyone otherwise. She was a child, true, and lord knows he has no clue whatsoever how to deal with her kind, but she didn’t behave as he expected the younger members of his species would. Yet again he finds his eyes drifting towards the flower patch Constance was entertaining herself in. Another exasperated sigh leaves the engineer and he closes his mouth, lips pressing into a tight line. “Fine.”

_____________________________________

The interior of Dell’s truck was littered with yellow dust and dandelions not even ten minutes into the drive, and he was already questioning his decision to take the girl home with him. He was hardly well equipped to be a guardian of any kind, legal or otherwise, and she was already leaving a mess. What in the hell was wrong with him?

He was fucking soft, that’s what.

Neither of them had spoken since entering the vehicle and leaving the graveyard. Constance hadn’t spoken since asking Dell about his identity earlier. One would think a solitary man would appreciate the peace and quiet, but he couldn’t shake the unfamiliar feeling of eyes watching him throughout the ride. The worst of it came when he glanced into the passenger seat and realized his newly acquired ward hadn’t looked up from her task of tearing dandelion petals from the flower one by one. He was being paranoid. It was starting to get unnerving.

“So, did Mr. Erving tell you who I am, then?” It was Dell who broke the silence. As they rolled to a stop at an intersection, turning down yet another dirt road taking them further outside of town the driver turned to look at his passenger. No response. 

Returning his attention to the road, the engineer decided to take the repeated lack of response as an invitation to continue talking himself. No problem, he may live like a hermit but he was (at least slightly) a social creature by nature. 

“No? Well, your ma and me, we’re cousins. I don’t think you’ve got any cousins but a cousin’s a lot like a sibling, ‘cept you don’t have to put up with ‘em all the time.” The Texan's slow drawl filled the previously stiff cab. Constance still said nothing, but she turned to look at him, watching and listening attentively. Dell took note of this progress before carrying on, lips turning up at the corners as he spoke. “Elaine- your ma- I got to see her every weekend when we went out to Grandpa Radigan’s farm. That’s where we’re headed, by the way, your great grandpappy’s farm. I picked it up when he passed away ‘bout a decade ago. It’s got a workshop and a tool shed, the inside’s a bit cozy but I think I’ve got a space for ya.

“You’ll like it, I think. There’s a garden out back- mind you it hasn’t been tended since I was just a boy, but the flower’s are still blooming. Daisies, Chrysanthemums, Daffodils, Irises…” He glances over at his passenger’s lap, noting the mutilated plants resting n her hands. “Dandelions.”

By now they were coming up to the driveway of the farm Dell was describing and he fell silent once more. A few places in the yard were littered with various metal contraptions the engineer had designed over the years that simply couldn’t fit in the shed along with whatever his latest projects were. Pulling the truck into the driveway and parking it under the lone tree that grew on the property, Dell looks to his little passenger and smiles. “Well, here we are- home sweet home. Let’s get your bags from the back and head inside, how’s that sound?” 

Unperturbed by the persistent lack of response from the girl, he reaches over to open her door for her. As they hopped out of the old pick up, thunder rumbled up in the distance encouraging the Texan to quicken his pace. He reaches into the bed of the truck and grabs the two suitcases he’d been given earlier- she had a trunk that was being sent over later as well with various possessions that had previously belonged to her mother, dishes and the like- and walked around to where Constance was waiting for him. Gesturing to the house with one of the leather cases with her possessions in it, he encourages her forwards.

Instead of moving at his insistence, the child looks up at him- expression one of confusion. She opens her mouth, looking prepared to say something but immediately shuts it and just continues to stare the other down. Dell waits for a minute or so before quirking a brow at her. “What?” He asks, fully aware she had been prepared to say something.

“Why don’t you talk to me like a baby like everybody else?” She suddenly blurts out, watching for a response expectantly. She wasn’t to be disappointed.

“Hell, girl- nobody ever learned nothing from baby talk.” He responds, once again intrigued by her apparent knowledge level. “How about we head inside, now- that storm’s getting mighty close.”

This time, she moves when prompted, darting off toward the house.

The inside of the house wasn’t much different than the outside. Well organized and at least partly tidy, but with various contraptions scattered about wherever there was room for them. Where other people had paintings, Dell had handmade hat hooks and tools hanging on the wall. 

“Pardon me, darlin’.” Constance stepped close to the wall to allow Dell past, staring curiously at her new surroundings. She waits until he’s out of the entryway before trotting after, not wanting to get left behind in the strange place. Dell smiles at this, chuckling softly before leading her to a staircase.

It wasn’t a long climb to get to the second floor- the attic, technically- and at the top of the stairs Constance’s new guardian pushed open a door to reveal a large room. 

Unlike the rest of the house there was an entire section cleared of metallic experiments and contraptions, though if it had always been that way or if Dell had cleared it out before heading to the funeral it was hard to tell. Instead, the room was completely void, with the exception of several pieces of furniture and a single shelf of boxes on the far wall. A small bed was pushed against the window. The mattress of said bed was bare save a single pillow and sheets. Already well aware of the issue, Dell had made his way over to one of the boxes in the opposite half of the space and was digging inside in search of an appropriately sized bedspread. 

Constance, meanwhile, had skirted around the luggage Dell had set down near the door and walked over to the barren area. She sits on the bed, testing it’s bounce. She looks in the mirror on the vanity, and checks all of the drawers to find them empty, save a few pencils, chalk and some scraps of blue drafting paper. She even darts over to what appeared to be an old work bench built into the wall to try and see on it, but the tabletop was just taller than her own height. 

By now Dell had found a suitable blanket and made his way over to the bed. “Sorry it ain’t exactly homey, yet. I only ever come up here for the storage, and even then I haven’t had to use it much.” He comments while quickly dressing up the bed. Connie ignores the apology for a few seconds before giving him her own reply. 

“Is… is this all mine?” She asks. 

The engineer glances up and gives a nod of affirmation. “Whole space ‘cept where those boxes is yours now. How ‘bout we get you tucked in now, it’s been a long day I’m sure.”

The girl doesn’t budge from her position by the work bench, opting instead to stare at her elder. “Can… can I have this?” She questions, pointing at the bench. Once again Dell nods, making a mental note to get the girl a chair and step ladder tomorrow so she can actually use it. “And this? The thing with a mirror?” Constance darts over to the vanity then and jabs a finger in its direction. 

“The vanity? Sure thing, darl’.” Dell states, chuckling. “How about we head into town in the morning, get you some supplies for the place. We can even paint the joint however you like. This here’s your workshop now, Constance.”

She nods eagerly and finally acts on Dell’s earlier suggestion. She walks up to the bed, using it to hold her steady as she takes off her shoes, and then lets herself be tucked in by the inventor.

It was awkward, to say the least, but the pair somehow made it work despite the issue of barely knowing one another. Dell didn't push for a goodnight hug or kiss on the forehead or anything like that, and Constance didn’t request either.

Once the child was successfully covered in blankets, the other headed to the door. “Goodnight, Constance.” It wasn’t until he’d already turned out the light and was standing in the hallway that he heard the young lass mumble something. Turning about, he looked at the lump on the bed with a touch of concern. “What was that?”

“Connie. I want you to call me Connie.”  
Grinning broadly at that, the engineer nods. “Goodnight, Connie.” He corrects himself before leaving her to finally be alone for the first time all day.

Heading downstairs and then into the kitchen, Dell allows his smile to drop. Sighing heavily, he plops onto a chair next to the counter and grabs the paper. It takes a bit of hunting, but he eventually finds the number he’s searching for and reaches for his phone’s receiver. There wasn’t a chance he’d be able to do this on his own, and he wasn’t going to kid himself with fantasies saying otherwise. He was a busy man, with too many experiments to run to be worrying about watching Connie all day.

After dialing the number, the phone rang a few times before a rather tired sounding woman picked up. “Bee Cave Daily News, how can I help you?”

Leaning back in his chair, the Texan lets out a soft hum before replying. “Yeah, I need to place an ad for a nanny.”  
_____________________________________

It was well past midnight when the storm finally struck, and it was to the sound of rain pummeling into the roof top that Connie lay in bed, staring at the wall. She hadn’t slept yet, only pretended to do so when her new guardian came to check on her. There was no need to worry him, and she felt no more talkative now than she'd been that afternoon.

There was lighting in the sky, enough to illuminate her room in a near constant light. Sitting up slowly, she uses those alternating flashes of bright and dark, along with the the dim glow created by the little light that snuck in through her window from what she could only assume was Dell’s workshop. The large shed seemed to have no other plausible purpose- it seemed reasonable to assume this was the source of all of the small inventions that littered the property. Slipping out of bed, she breathes in deeply before letting the air loose again with an audible exhale and then walks over to her bags. In the outermost pocket of the smaller of the two cases was what she was looking for: a bandanna.

It had been her mother’s favorite, this one, and Connie could remember seeing her wear it on numerous occasions. Yellow with white polka dots, just like Rosie the Riveter, only cheerier, as her mother used to say. Connie had been born after the war, but thanks to her sole parent she had a soft spot for that woman. With her new possession in hand, she makes her way back to the bed and curls up in a tight ball, inhaling the smell of her mommy off of the cloth. 

Only now, with this brightly colored square of fabric and the sound of thunder in the distance, did little miss Connie Conagher cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dell probably isn't the best parental figure. At least he knows it, and is planning accordingly, eh?
> 
> Forgive Connie, she's a bit of a damn smart kid, though that'll be a bit more apparent in later chapters. She's three in this chapter.


	2. Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday Surprises

Only a few days after arriving on the ranch, Connie had asked to go to school. 

While the inventor had tired, Dell simply couldn’t find a school within driving distance that would take her, and boarding schools were far too expensive- never mind the fact that they were no place for a toddler. It hadn’t taken much pouting on Connie’s part to convince him to take her further under his wing. Within a week he had developed a rough curriculum for her, and a few makeshift ‘lesson plans’ that should keep her occupied for a few days.

Initially, he had planned on working with the basics- requesting the nanny that he’d hired to work with her on things like colors, letters and animals. When the caretaker had approached him later that evening, after Connie had been tucked in for bed, and asked hime what in the world “that cerulean word” meant the engineer came to two conclusions: The first being that Connie’s mother had likely already started educating the girl- though if it was on purpose or simple a side affect of not “treating her like a baby” as Connie liked to put it, Dell hadn’t the faintest clue. The second deduction Dell made from the interation was that he needed a more intelligent nanny, one which could keep up with the child’s- his child’s- studies.

So a week went by after he fired the first lass and hunted for a suitable replacement. In this time Dell taught and looked after her himself, and while the week did wonders for their relationship, not much work was accomplished in this time- a fact which irritated the engineer greatly. As much as he loved their time together he had projects waiting for his attention in the workshop, and while Connie could prove useful in fetching tools for him, it was no place for a child of her age.

Instead, they started their days with breakfast, discussing letters and and their sounds. They then migrated to the workshop, where the engineer would attempt to find something suitable to work on. Within minutes, Connie would have spotted something interesting to here- and ultimately dangerous- and they would have to leave. Instead they would head inside and find some other manner of occupying themselves. Typically it was numbers. While the girl could already count to ten… and one hundred, and one thousand (in theory; Dell din’t make the poor girl waste her time listing every number), adding and subtracting were new concepts to her, and ones which she delighted in practicing. It wasn’t uncommon for this lesson to carry into lunch time, and while they’d be eating whatever food the engineer found in the cupboard she would solve problems he listed off.

In the afternoon it was time for his own “studies.” The table became a drafting table with various blueprints and equasions scattered about, chalk and pens littering the surface. For Connie this was a bit of an arts and crafts time, and Dell had made her an easel to draw on in the corner. Naturally there were the ocasional sloppy sketches of herself, hre mother and him, of flowers and rainbows, but it was becoming more and more frequent for the engineer to look up and see the child drawing one of the contraptions sitting outside or even the machine he was drafting. This would carry on to dinner, after which he made certain they spent some time ooutside, typically with Connie picking and weaving plants while Dell read under the large tree on the property.

As much as he liked this routine, by the eighth day of it we was anxious to get back into his workshop and thus increased his search efforts for a nanny. Thankfully, he had found a suitable one within the week.

The replacement was an elderly woman- around the age of 70, she was nearly old enough to be one of Dell’s own parents. A retired governess from Europe, she was a bit more expensive than the previous but was willing to lower her charges in exchange for temporary room and board, while she found a suitable place to live nearby. Finding even more extra space in the small ranch house was a bit of a hassle, but after enlisting Connie’s help for a day they cleared out his office and made it a suitable living space for the woman. It was well worth the work, though, as she was more than capable of working with Constance on any subject Dell suggested, and even had her own curriculum to teach the child. Classical art, world history, music and German (of all things) were not subjects Dell would have thought the child would be capable of starting so soon, let alone ones she would enjoy so much.

When Clara- as the governess prefered to be called- had first arrived on the ranch Connie was able to identify individual letters and tell you only some of their sounds. A week later and Dell was finding scraps of paper with somewhat uncoordinated handwriting on it, listing a few simple words: mainly the names of those who lived within the household. In a month she was reading and writing short, simple sentences. After only a year she was reading whatever book Dell brought her and then some, though anytime she tried her hand at one of her guardian's old textbooks she’d have to stop and ask about a technical term or strangely phrased sentence she’d run across. The books about weaponry particularly interested the child, and Clara used this fact to capture her attention and help her to understand the history of war and different government types.

At one point Connie had asked Clara where she came from, and “why does your voice sound funny?” They had been eating dinner together and Dell was forced to pause with concern for where this conversion was heading, as the Governess had a firm love of manners and the manner in which the question had bee asked was hardle a polite one. After Dell explained to Connie that telling someone they sounded funny was a rather impolite thing, the governess merely chuckled and said she was from Germany. The answer apparently pleased the girl, or she was holding back further questions out of politeness as she had resumed eating- allowing Dell to let out a sigh of relief and resume his own dinner.

Life carried on like this for a year and a half, at which point Clara found a small apartment to rent in town. Nothing much changed after that point other than the fact that Dell now ran into town to drop off Connie and then pick her up in the evening.  
____________________

Seven months after Clara had moved out, Dell and Connie were once again adapted to living alone. 

Today, the girl had been given the day off from schooling for the purpose of celebrating her fifth birthday. They had gone into town the previous day so she could pick out a new outfit for dinner later that evening (she selected a baby blue dress and matching ribbons for her hair that her adoptive father couldn't deny looked adorable on the lass). She’d been promised a dinner of her choosing but was slow in making a decision and had demanded more time to think. Apparently ‘more time’ amounted to over twelve hours, and so the dinner needed to be postponed for the next night. At breakfast, when Dell pestered her about the choice again she was still unsure.

Now it was well into the afternoon and Connie still hadn’t made her decision, and was instead helping her caregiver in his workshop. Dell had given her a spare hard hat to use and it now sat precariously on her little head, always requiring a hand to keep it from tipping down and completely covering her eyes. The goggles she had were at least adjustable and fit to her face, allowing them to do their job of keeping the sparks coming off of Dell’s grinder from blinding her.

Connie had helped Dell out in the shop plenty of times before, handing him tools he needed to work on machines that seemed like they belonged in one of Connie’s science fiction stories. The latest project was toying with the idea of teleportation, though they hadn’t quite worked all of the kinks out yet. Once they got it working, though, they’d be able to go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted- like the candy store in town, or maybe someplace really amazing- like Europe. She’d love to visit Germany with Clara, but the woman had explained to her that it hadn’t been so plesant since the war. Perhaps they could work on a time machine next…

“Flat Head.” 

The voice jolted Connie from her daydreaming, causing her to blink at the source of the sound in confusion. She hadn’t caught what Dell had said. A small chuckle left the engineer as he looks at his adopted child with findness. “You daydreaming in the shop again, girl? That there’s a bad habit to be picking up. I need a flat head screwdriver, a number two if you can find it.”

The child made a noise of affirmation and darted off to the other side of the barn, earning herself a stern “Don’t run around tools!” which was easily ignored. It didn't take her long to find the tool requested of her, it was the most common size of it’s type after all, and she was placing the slim screwdriver in Dell’s waiting hand within a minute. He thanks her, ruffling that permanently gloved hand of his through her bangs before turning his attention to the task at hand. A few minutes pass while the one works and the other watches attentatively, before the engineer lets out a low whistle. 

“Well,” Dell starts, setting down his tools and wiping his hands off on his work apron. “I guess that’ll do. You run behind that blast screen in the corner and we’ll test this contraption out.” While Connie does as she’s told, he reaches over for a nearby lunch box and pulls a loaf of bread from it. Breaking it in half, he carefully positions a section of it in the center of the teleporter before darting away to join Connie behind the makeshift blast shield they’d fabricated a few days ago and pulls out a simplistic, single button remote. Grinning broadly at the girl bouncing on her toes next to him, he offers the contraption to her. “Care to do the honors?”

“Naturally.” Constance responds, smiling broadly at her caregiver before snagging the remote. Holding the metal box in one hand, she lets the other hover over the large red button and begins counting down. “Commencing teleporter test twenty six in three… two…” She hesitates a few extra seconds at the last number to build suspense before suddenly bringing her finger down to push the button. “One!”

A whirring sound fills the room then, and both the teleporter entrance and exit began slowly spinning, quickly picking up speed before emitting a bright flash of light. Both onlookers were forced to close their eyes from the glare but regained their vision in time to see the chunk of bread hovering over the teleporter exit for a brief few seconds before falling to the table it was resting on. Silence reigns through the room as the teleporters wind down, automatically powering off. Dell and Connie look at each other with wide eyed before simultaneously letting out a whoop of victory, the older of the two picking up the smaller to twirl her around. The celebration is short lived, however, for as soon as Connie is returned to the ground a deafening bang rings through the room, the bread exploding seemingly out of nowhere. 

Both of the workers freeze, expressions morphing from triumph, to shock, and quickly back to something more neutral. The little one lets out a soft “darn…” while Dell sighed deeply, walking out from around the shield to pick up a piece of now burnt bread. 

“Well,” he sighs, “Mark this one down as another failed test.”

“Already on it.” Was the response- Connie already pulling out a pencil from the pocket in her own work apron, preparing to write on a clipboard posted by the wall. 

The room stays quiet like this for a good while, Dell sitting down with his chin propped on his fist as he thought and Connie absorbed in her note taking. After a good ten minutes or so, the engineer slaps a hand against his thigh and beams at the other. “I know what’ll cheer us right up.” He states, earning a look of confusion from his daughter as he stands. Striding over to the corner of the shop, he rummages around a bit before pulling out a package wrapped in brown paper. “Here we are.” He’s beaming as he comes back over by the girl, seating himself on a step ladder. “How ‘bout you open your birthday present?”

Before the birthday girl has a chance to respond, the unusual happens- a firm knock sounds on the metal overhead door. Both parties within the building frown in confusion, the older of the two pushing himself up to go and lift the door to the garage, leaving the gift on the top step of the ladder.

A woman stands outside, looking tidy and professional in her crisp purple blouse and simple skirt. With the way she was clutching a clipboard to her chest with one hand, the other adjusting her glasses Connie decided she looked as though she’d be much more at home in an office setting than pictured against the barren Texas landscape behind her. 

“Hello, Mr. Conagher.” Her greeting is accented by an outstretched hand, which Dell was too polite to ignore. They shake hands briefly before the Texan retracts his arm, folding it over his chest. The stranger clears her throat then, readjusting her glasses before taking a daring step forwards. “I understand that you’ve been out of work recently. My employers are very interested in your particular set of skills. May I have a moment of your time?”

Not seeing a way out of it- and noting that he really could use a job again, especially with a growing girl on his hands- Dell nods, gesturing for her to go on. The dark haired woman smiles slightly, visibly relaxing and growing more confident as she pulls a stack of papers off of her clipboard, handing them to the other.

Dell immediately starts reading over the topmost page, brows furrowing the further along her gets. Meanwhile, Connie stays silent throughout the interaction, Feeling confused but not wanting to get involved, she makes her way into the shop and preoccupies herself with organizing the tools within her reach.

Finishing his skimming, the engineer finally looks up at his guest again, raising a brow- not that it would be overly visible behind his goggles. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” When he finally speaks, his voice is stern and cold, instantly catching Connie’s attention.

Unphased, the dark haired woman nods. “If you’ll look at the third page you’ll find part of a blueprint for a device we’ve named respawn, along with some details of how it works. Should you accept our offer, you’ll be working with a medic we’ve already hired to update the machine as well as participate in the less… traditional portion of the job.”

Dell snorts at this, but looks at the page mentioned anyways, expression slowly growing curious as he reads further. Looking it over- even just what was essentially a review of the device- he could feel himself getting giddy at the prospect of working on such a . It takes him a minute to find his head again. Shoulders drooping a bit in disappointment, he gives the unknown girl before him a helpless expression. “Look, lady- I’d love to help ya’ll out but I’ve got a growing girl to look after.. This’ll keep me away from home, an’ I-”

The business looking woman holds up a hand to stop him, interrupting him mid-sentence. “If you look at page five I assure you you’ll not be disappointed. Children don’t come cheap, Dell. Nor do your experiments, which we fully encourage you to continue on our base.”

Irritated by the interruption, the Texan huffs and flips through the packet of papers to the page instructed, and immediately freezes. He shouldn't really be surprised, given the unsavory nature of some of the work being asked of him, yet the numbers listed on the page entitled “Wages” still left him dumbfounded. “Y-Ya’ll actually capable of that?” He eventually manages to get out, earning another small smile from the woman.

“Absolutely, and that’s just the first month’s rate. It’ll only increase from there. You in?”

The engineer sighs, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head. “I’m not sure yet- I’d need to read over the paperwork.” Raising the papers in hand, he looks at her expectantly. “Mind if I keep these? Call you in the morning?” He points his shoulder at the girls still cleaning up in the workshop behind him with a gloved thumb. “It’s Connie’s birthday, and we were just getting around to celebrating.”

“Of course, Mr. Conagher. My contact information is on the front page.” She holds her hand out again then, and Dell glances at the sheet for a name before taking the offered hand.

“Thanks, Pauling.” He replies, a genuine smile spreading over his face.

The lass returns the expression and nods a farewell. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you in the morning.” She states before turning to walk away, slipping into a dark vehicle and baking out the driveway.

Once the stranger’s car is out of sight, Connie finally approaches her caregiver and looks up at him in confusion. “What was she talking about?” She asks curiously.

“Nothing we need to worry about- just a job I might be taking up.” He kneels down then, placing a hand on the child’s shoulder. “If I take it, I won’t be home during the week, but you’ll likely go stay with Clara. Would you like that?” The girl take a moment to consider the information, frowning slightly before giving a slight nod. Clara was no Dell, but she was easily her second favorite person in the world and so long as he would be returning to her on the weekends, she thinks she can manage.

Satisfied with her answer, the inventor stands up once more. “Alright then, how about that gift?” Delighted by the suggestion, Connie darts to the step ladder her package was resting on and eagerly tears into the brown encasing.

Despite worries for the future, Dell can’t help but grin at the delighted noises and eager thank you’s that spouted forth from the pigtailed child as she finds within her very own tool belt, already equipped with a wrench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connie decided she wanted to grill out for her birthday. Unfortunately, she decided so late they didn't have her birthday dinner for another three days.


	3. Injury - Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too much fluff rots the soul. Have a hint of conflict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got hella long, I'm splitting it into two chapters.

“Dell!” 

 

A cheerful and familiar voice broke through the warm fall air, rousing the engineer from his thoughts. Lifting his head from the book it had been buried in, he directs his attention to the source of the sound. Upon laying eyes on his adopted daughter running out of the house to greet him, he couldn’t contain the grin of pride which made its way onto his face.

 

The girl was twelve now, and top of her classes. Dell was often given the impression she was the top of her school as well, already taking on the lectures boys nearly a decade older than her were struggling with. Physically, she’d grown a great deal- stretched out one might say. While no one expected her to reach a height that could be considered tall- none of the Conagher’s had the privilege of that label- she was certainly growing fast. Little Connie was already at the height of the engineers shoulders, and was slowly building a strength to match his own, proportionally speaking of course. 

 

The child closes the distance between the front porch and Dell in a matter of seconds, her tool belt flapping at her side as she jogs up. There wasn’t a day that went by that the girl didn’t have it with her. Even during school hours she’d put it to good use, filling the loops and pockets with pens and scraps of paper to write on after she’d been banned from carrying actual tools into the private education building. Something about it being a distraction to the other students... He hated to imagine what would have happened had she brought the pistol he’d entrusted her with a few months ago.  
____________________

 

He’d gotten home a day late that week, and walked into the house early in the morning to find Connie waiting for him- expression one which he’d expect to see on a mother about to teach her child a valuable life lesson with a wooden spoon. They had argued briefly, she both worried and angered that he hadn’t informed her where he’d been. She’d questioned what exactly he’d been working on that could keep him out so long, risen out of her chair to point an accusing finger when she caught sight of his favored secondary weapon for work- a simple, only slightly modified semiautomatic pistol- tucked safely to his toolbelt.

 

Now there was an argument he never wanted to re-live. The girl was protective of her father, that was for certain- losing both of your parents tended to do that to a person. To find out that one of the few people she cared about was bringing a gun to work, well, needless to say she questioned it. Loudly.

 

Naturally, the engineer couldn’t explain the nature of his work to her. What was he meant to say? Hello again, darling, I’ve been paying for dinner by killing the same people repeatedly on a daily basis for the past six years. No, it was best that the child not worry about his safety or heaven forbid get herself involved in his work. He was a mercenary now, and the work suited him frighteningly well. 

 

“Connie.” His voice had been stern, yet the girl continued to pester and question. He repeated the name a few times and yet she still carried on. It took him shouting her full name, telling her to go upstairs, with the same volume he produced on the battlefield, to quiet Constance. She’d hushed then, and stared at him in hurt and anger briefly before turning tail and running to her room.

 

No one in the house slept that night.

 

By the time Connie came downstairs the next morning, Dell had already left for work. 

 

As timing and destiny would have it- or perhaps it was a combination of both of the pair purposefully avoiding each other- they wouldn’t talk for the remainder of the week. It wasn’t until mid Saturday that Dell mentally kicked himself for letting this go on for so long.

 

He didn’t bother climbing the stairs to Connie’s room to call her down for supper, and it took the girl near half an hour to slink down from her chosen hideaway. Dell assumed the lateness was to avoid him, something the child hadn’t succeeded in as he was waiting at the kitchen table, patiently reading yesterday’s newspaper.

 

Her expression was a masterfully blank one when she walked into the room, though her body language easily gave her away to the older mechanic. She was being cautious, not speaking a word, and never taking her eyes off of him. He merely gave her a stern glance, head tilting to the empty chair at the table. Constance didn’t need to be told twice. The place had already been set out with dinner, but it wouldn’t be until she’d already seated herself that she’d notice with what.

 

Cold potatoes and carrots were one thing, and the fork and knife were to be expected, but the child visibly recoiled when she noticed the handgun resting, disassembled, on the tablecloth next to her plate. Looking up at Dell in confusion, he raises a finger in warning. 

 

“Shush, girl. I need to talk, and you need to listen to your pa, ya hear?” He waits for the bandannaed head to bob in affirmation before he continues. “You’re a smart lass. I can’t just tell you I carry a gun at work because I’m an adult and have the right to do so. That ain’t a reason- that’s the horeshit excuse any other parent would give you. That gun,” He states, pointing a gloved finger at the pistol sitting next to Connie. “Is a tool, just like any other. You know fully well that the technology and machines I work on are extremely valuable. Despite other precautions, this pistol is a necessity, and yes-” He looks at her sternly as her mouth opens to speak, “-it is a tool. It’s a tool more for protection and occasionally intimidation-” well, it wasn’t a total lie, at least. “Than say, my wrench, granted, but it’s still a tool I choose to carry. Is this clicking for you?”

 

When Connie’s only response is to stare at the parts of the weapon before her calculatingly, he sighs. “Alright, try this one- there are two weapons on this table, traditionally speaking- did you even notice the other?” This recaptures her attention, and she looks about in confusion before her eyes settle on the knife sitting next to her fork. Noticing the recognition in her expression, the inventor nods. “Would you be afraid for me if I were to carry that knife with me to work for last minute protection?” Her head shakes to confirm his suspicions that no, she wouldn’t. “Then why are you worried about me bringing a firearm with me?” 

 

Finally, his tone had been a gentle one, coaxing even, and it was thankfully enough to cause Connie to speak- but only after thinking about it for a long while. On the one hand, her textbooks told her that this was a tool of destruction, chaos, and war. Clara had disapproved of her fascination with war and it’s weaponry after it grew to be a bit more than should be healthy for a young girl, and as always the governesses role in raising her had left its impressions. Since that occasion it had been frowned upon for her to bring the technology up. She had assumed that Dell would have the same views. As such, realizing he carried a firearm on himself was a natural shock.

 

“I… I guess I never thought of it as a tool…” She mumbles, shifting in her seat, slowly gaining confidence. She looks as the metal parts laid out before her, this time with a hint of hesitant curiosity. “Are… are you sure you’re not in danger all the time or anything..?”

 

Needless to say, Dell was thrilled that he didn’t need to psychoanalyze the girl to try and figure this out for himself, she seemed to be settling down as is. “I can take care of myself, sweet pea.” Again, it wasn’t a total lie. Setting his paper down he smiles at Connie. “Think you’d feel better if you had a more hands on understanding of how this contraption works works?”

 

The question didn’t even need to be asked it seemed, for as soon as it left Dell’s lips the dinner plate was set aside and Constance was sorting parts into categories she could better understand. The machine had been heavily modified by Dell already, yet even with those changes Connie had enough of an understanding of mechanics to successfully reassemble it under her father’s watchful eye. Those old books she used to love and logic were on her side and she had the task completed within a few minutes. 

 

Best of all she loved it, he could see it in her expression (though if it was for the gun or the challenge it presented, Dell wasn’t certain). He watches her expression as she gingerly holds it up, and soon bursts out laughing after she comments on the beauty of it- earning an indignant pout from the child. Once he recovers from his chuckling, Constance holds the pistol out in offering to him. Grinning at the younger Conagher, Dell shakes his head and waves her away.

 

“That’s yours now. I figure if I can trust you in the shop I can trust you with one of these. Just don’t keep it loaded, and we’re going over firearm safety tomorrow, got me?”

 

From that night forward, the pistol would remain one of Constance's most prized, albeit mostly unused, possessions. Dell also took care to return home by five pm every night, or else call in to tell her he was running late.  
____________________

 

The gun was in it’s place on her toolbelt now as she ran towards him, settled right next to her favorite wrench and flopping against her side. Upon reaching her destination, she plops to the ground at his side, a grin to match his own strewn across her face. “Hiya, daddy.” She greets him, eyes and hands already reaching for the book resting in his lap.

 

Chuckling, Dell lets the girl have the text. “François Bordes?” She asks, quickly reading the cover and paging through the small volume. “La Revanche de...des Martiens… is this French?”

 

Leaning back, the engineer nods. “Yeah, science fiction. A colleague of mine recommended it.”

 

“I didn’t know you spoke french… aren’t German and Polish enough?” Shaking her head, Constance closed the book and set it down. “What’s it about?”

 

“Think you can translate the title?”

 

Frowning, Connie studies the front of the book. “Martiens is Martians I’m guessing. Never thought you’d be one to go for little green men, though.” Chuckling, Dell pushes himself up to his feet, connie quickly hopping up to help him despite him waving her off.

 

“Translates to ‘Revenge of the Martians.’ Basically one of them stories where the aliens come to attack us, instead of us coming to them.” Taking the paperback back from her, he gestures towards the house. “How about we rustle up some dinner?” Nodding in agreement with this suggestion, she hops to her feet after him.

 

“Do you think we’re ever going to get people in space, Dell?” Connie asks as they walk back to their home. 

 

“Reckon we might, so long as everyone stays so excited about it.” Glancing to the girl at his side, he finds her staring up at him curiously. “There ain’t such a thing as impossible.” Winking, he returns his attention to the path in front of them, and the pair heads inside for the night.  
____________________

 

The next day Dell was off to work before Connie woke up. 

 

It was partially her own fault, as she had slept in well past the cock’s crow, but she couldn’t help jokingly blaming her father for not waking her up- something which was quickly written down on a scrap of paper and attached to the fridge where anyone opening it’s doors would be certain to see it. With this simple task completed, the near teen wandered to the front door and slipped on her boots, neatly lacing them before stepping outside. 

 

Even at eight in the morning on an autumn’s day in Texas, the air held a pleasant briskness that drew a shiver and a smile from the girl. The chickens (which were the only “farm-ly” creatures on this farm, much to Connie's disappointment, mind you) were already out and about their day, wandering around their allotted section of the landscape. Trotting over to the gate, the birds perked up only when she grabbed the bucket of feed from the outer perimeter of the fence. It wasn’t so much that they needed the food- the grass provided plenty of sustenance and winged critters for them to gorge themselves on. Connie simply enjoyed spoiling the quintet of feathered creatures, and found that corn and wheat served as a good distraction while she collected the eggs for one of her few daily chores.

 

Scattering some feed on the ground, Constance slips into the coop itself, carefully prodding at the nests inside in search of the treasure that would become her breakfast. Much to her disappointment, there were only three eggs to be found. Given the fact that one of the prize birds was a male, she could easily deduce that only one of the hens had failed to give her sustenance. 

 

She was going to guess it was Bridget. The slacker.

 

After shooting a playful glare at the oldest of the flock, she heads back inside to make herself breakfast and begin her daily studies.  
____________________

 

It wasn’t until three in the afternoon that Constance grew tired of staying holed up in the house with her nose in a book. She’d been reading a fantasy novel, one which had been gifted to her by Clara to assist with her studies of the German language, and she had to admit that as much as she enjoyed the challenge Deutsch presented it did get tedious to read for hours on end. 

 

Pushing herself up from a lounging position on the sofa, she tosses the paperback on the side table and readies herself to head outside. She didn’t know what she planned on doing yet, but she could always figure that out when the time comes. 

 

Seeing how it wasn’t that long of a walk from the living room to the door, that time came sooner than she would have liked. Stepping outside and looking across the landscape, her eyes eventually settle on the workshed. That, she supposed, would do.

 

Traversing to the shed wasn’t a lengthy task, but upon realizing she didn’t have the key to get in with her, a trip back to the house to search for it was necessary. By the time she was inside the building and had the lights on near half an hour had passed. It easily took just as much time for her to find something to do.

 

She hadn’t had a plan when she initially entered the old barn, and immediately set to searching the area for something to preoccupy her time. She, herself, had no projects to work on, but perhaps looking at the partially completed machines Dell had scattered about the place would inspire her. Unsatisfied with the offerings set out on the workbenches and near the door, Connie soon found herself digging deeper into the dusty recesses of the building.

 

Failed contraptions and those too simple or useless to work on were scattered about the usually untouched area of the room, coated with dust and cobwebs and hiding in the darkness. Given the dim, barely there glow from the light overhead, one could guess that the bulb was in dire need of a changing- knowing Dell, it would stay like this until a few months after it finally burnt out.

 

Surprisingly, finding a lightbulb and changing it was a simple task- despite the clutter which made up most of not only the workshop, but the entire property- most everything was organized. She’d fixed up the light quickly and now found herself standing amid a pile of unfinished projects from years ago. Connie grins to herself as she looks around at the stash of forgotten trinkets and challenges, some which she’d seen before and others which were unrecognizable. To her right, a half finished attempt at a robotic toy dog, originally intended to be a birthday gift. A disassembled blender cannibalized for parts, loose wires and something which looked suspiciously like a camera on wheels were scattered around the metal pet, decorating the area with clutter. Shelves straight ahead filled to the brim with more small appliances in similar condition took up most of the space. On the floor, at her feet though…

 

Oh, yes. This could be fun.

 

It took a bit of tugging and pulling, some swearing when half of a toaster damn near gave her a concussion, but Constance was able to successfully relocate both components of the teleporter to the main work area of the room. 

 

As far as she knew, the experiment hadn’t been touched since the last time Dell and her worked on it together a few years back. It had taken a lot of work the senior engineer’s part to get it to this point, but he simply hadn’t been able to find the source of instability. Connie thought it would be brilliant if she could succeed where he failed, and just imagine how proud she’d make him. She could invite him into the shed, place a loaf of bread or maybe even a barn cat or something on it, and BAM! Teleport it without vaporizing anything.

 

Giggling to herself before shaking her head and settling into a determined mindset, she set to work.  
____________________

 

Two hours had passed, not that Connie had noticed. Her hair was slowly spilling out of it’s traditional pigtails, falling into her face and causing her to let loose and irritated exhale. Thus far, she hadn’t made much progress.

 

The inner mechanisms had been a chaotic mess, as far as she was concerned- wires tangled and strewn about carelessly with dust littering the interior. She’d determined that first thing’s first, she needed a system. Now, each wire had a clear set path, nothing crossing and everything color coded- complete with a cheat sheet marking out what color mean what written on a sticker she’d glued to the access panel on the side. Said panel was removed right now, the prospective mechanic carefully connecting a string of car batteries together. If her guess (educated as it may be, in matters of machines which belonged in fantasy always relied at least slightly upon guess work) was correct, the power supply simply hadn’t been enough previously. The machine was already hooked up to the house’s power grid, but a bit of extra energy from an alternative outlet couldn’t hurt, she figured. After all, it had been connected to the power supply last time as well, and while they’d upgraded their systems since then it hadn’t increased their energy output by too much, especially where quantum mechanics were concerned. At this point, every volt counted.

 

A pair of giant yellow gloves were protecting Connie’s hands at the moment, for while the circuit remained incomplete safety was always a priority. In hindsight, more precaution should have been taken.

 

Hindsight wouldn’t come into play until after it was too late, however, for Dell had arrived home, and the sound of the truck door slamming and a shout of “I’m home!” startled the young girl enough that she jolted when she looked up, hand holding the hot wire shifting just far enough to complete the circuit and turn the contraption on. 

 

In a flash of blinding light, the nearest object was gone- transported to the exit in a fraction of a second.

 

It took Constance a full seven seconds to realize she was standing on the exit, hands still posed as if holding delicate wiring. It took half of that time for her to put two and two together, let loose a terrified scream and run out of the building.

 

She was certain she hadn’t sprinted faster previously in her life, and she made it halfway across the yard while yelling half sentences and broken words before Dell began darting toward her at a speed impressive for a man his age and stature.

 

“The hell happened, girl?” He shouts, attempting to get her words to focus. 

 

“Th- the, it, I didn’t mean-” Shaking her head violently to try and calm herself, Constance takes a deep breath and attempts to ignore the panicked tears running down her face. “I teleported!” She finally managed to scream.

 

There was a mere twenty feet between them when the tingling started, quickly followed by a sharp pain in her right leg, ringing ears, and-

 

The darkness closed in.


	4. Injury - Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie meets a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is carrying on directly from the previous chapter, it just got a lot longer than I planned on.

“Constance! Damn it all, Connie, answer me!” No matter how loud he got, the child remained motionless on the ground, unresponsive.

Shit.

Dell continued shouting as he dropped to his knees next to the girl, now unconscious and lying in a pool of her own blood and shredded flesh. Plenty of it had gotten in the grass and dirt of the driveway, some of it was even on the engineer’s clothes. There was no time to deal with any of that, though. Brain running at warp speed, he quickly grabs the nearest cloth he can find- the shirt he was wearing- and places it on what remains of her leg. Thank god that seemed to be the only part of her affected by the teleportation, he didn’t want to think of what would have happened otherwise. Propping her leg on his own in an attempt to slow the bleeding through elevation, he takes a few seconds to try and wipe some of the gore off of the rest of the child’s leg and torso, hunting for other injuries. Once satisfied that there was nothing more than a few nicks and scratches to be found here and there he removes his belt to fashion a temporary tourniquet.

With a grunt, he pushes himself to his fit with the girl in his arms and runs towards the house, constantly muttering to himself all the while. Once inside, the thankfully still-breathing body in his arms is placed on the couch, fresh towels brought in from the bathroom to prop up and further cover the residual limb, a few heavy textbooks holding a light pressure on the injury while he runs to the phone. He needed help, and the usual medical professionals weren’t going to cut it. 

___________________

When Connie’s eyes opened, she was greeted by the bright light and pale paint of her kitchen ceiling and a dull ache radiating from her lower right leg. Whining softly, she raises a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness. When did the kitchen get this bright of a lightbulb? And… why had she fallen asleep here in the first place. Pushing an arm to help her sit up slightly, she looks around the room.

Oh.

This was definitely not the kitchen.

There was a curtain wrapped partially around her, a row of cots visible to her right side as well as multiple shelves filled with what looked to be medical supplies. Everything in here was white, and stank of bleach. It was a hospital, maybe? She did seem to have an IV of some kind in her arm, and there was a… weird glowing machine hovering above her. What kind of hospital had doves nesting in the corner, though?

Wait, why was she even in a hospital? 

Jolting up to sit up fully, she knocks the strange machine which had been hovering above her to the side and a sharp jolt of pain runs up through her knee and into her thigh, and oh GOD did her shin and foot hurt. Letting out a sharp gasp of pain, she winces and looks to the source of her sudden discomfort. The thin blanket covering her left little to the imagination as to what was hidden beneath it, and was suspiciously flat where she was certain her leg should be resting. 

She wasn’t an idiot. Either she was hallucinating, or there was a massive chunk of her body missing just below the knee of one leg. Whimpering quietly, she delicately grips the sheet and goes to lift it slowly. Surely enough, there was little to be seen of her leg whatsoever beyond the bandages which wrapped around what could now only be described as a stump. Another whimper. A deep breath in. 

Stay calm, Connie. Stay calm just stay- There was no stopping the shrill scream that tore its way from her throat as memories flash before her, the teleportation, the brightness, the bang, the pain. The girls breathing quickens, tears cutting their way down her face, hot and salty as they fell into her mouth as she sobbed. Again, she was no fool. Constance Conagher was fully aware she ought to consider herself lucky to be alive, if she could even be certain she was still living at this point. Nonetheless, she also couldn't blame herself for the panicked, tortured tears that escaped from between her fingertips.

An amputee, at the ripe age of twelve. She… she was going to start high school this year. She’d passed all the tests and they were going to let her skip several grades to be with classmates at a similar learning level. She was going to be getting her own workshop soon, a place to start building all the things she’d scrawled down on the drafting table she’d gotten for her birthday. There were so many things she was going to do, she, she-

She had a hand resting on what remained of her thigh that wasn’t her own. Peeling fingers away from her face, Connie turned glassy eyes towards a strange man in glasses. He wore a medical coat- white with patches on the sides, and glasses. The hand on her leg was concealed in a thick red glove similar in shape to the one Dell kept on his right hand at all times. “Du bist wach.” He mutters to himself before shaking his head. “Hello, little one.”

Constance stares at who she could only presume was her doctor in surprise for a full minute, the sudden intrusion unexpected yet successful in yanking her from her frightened thoughts. She bites her lip slightly, never one to enjoy others seeing her emotions, before finally deeming herself calm enough to respond. “Ich spreche Deutsch…” She mutters softly, feeling slightly better when she watches a happy surprise cross the man’s face. “Sin… Ah, Sind Sie mein Arzt?” It was difficult to think right now, hopefully that was said correctly.

“Ja. You may call me ‘Medic’” Well, at least she had asked him what she meant to. Curious, though, that her doctor should be named Medic. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell.” Typically, when Connie used foul language near adults other than Dell she would get a foul look, but this one simply laughed loudly, slapping his thigh before nodding.

“I’ve no doubt that was an understatement, Kind.” He comments.

Wincing again, though this time with a mild smile, the younger watches as Medic quickly makes his way around the cot to the machine she had accidentally knocked to the floor, gloved hands skillfully readjust its various tubes and wires before setting it properly on the stand, once again training it on his patient before flipping a switch to allow a red gas once again flow through it.

Relief from the pain instantly comes, shrinking to a dull ache located in just the knee rather than stabbing agony making its way through a now nonexistent limb. Staring wide eyed at the foreign machine, she can’t help bot let her curiosity take over, especially now that it was easier to ignore her discomfort and her mood was somehow migrating to the edge of giddy excitement as well. “What’s that?”

Once again pleasantly surprised by the young one resting in his medbay, the medic of RED points to the medigun he had modified to help in her healing process. When she nods, He claps his hands together excitedly. “This, my dear girl, is a miracle of science- of my own design of course. It is called a medigun- it functions as a tool in rapid healing and skin regrowth through the use of various chemicals in the form of a gaseous beam.” He was prepared to leave it at that, but as soon as Connie points to a specific component and once again asks about it, he finds himself explaining- in vast detail- each mechanical, chemical and medical design choice that went into the making of the machine. 

Nearly an hour later, Dell walks in to find the pair excitedly chattering away in a mix of german and english as the Medic of his team attempts to teach his daughter about the various chemical formulas his healing ray could use, to cause different functions of tissue growth. Dell had gotten a similar lecture earlier when he demanded they attempt to regrow the child’s missing limb. Aside from the fact that much of the other man’s medical vocabulary was limited to his native language, it was quickly learned that a mix of chemicals and dumb luck were not, apparently, enough to grow bones. Only respawn could utilize that ability, and needless to say there was not enough time to input the entirety of Connie’s DNA into the machine, it wasn’t a risk Dell felt like taking- nor was it something he wanted her to even know about. She would be worried enough about herself without having to concern herself about why he would have ever built such a device. He had settled for letting the other perform a proper amputation and treat the area for infection.

“Well ya’ll are sure getting along swell.” He calls as he walks in, a half dozen rolled blueprints tucked under his arm. The response is immediate. On first instinct, Constance went to leap out of bed and run to the other. Thankfully, the Medic caught her before she could make it out of bed. For a brief second she looks at him in confusion, before realization dawns and a look of depression spreads across youthful features. 

“Hi Dell.” She says softly as he makes his way over, and carefully sits on the end of the bed. Reaching out to cup the side of her head, thumb brushing away a tear the engineer has to fight back a wave of sorrow himself. 

“Hi Darlin. Ya’ll had yourself a little accident.” Offering a gentle smile, the gloved hand goes to grip one of Connie's own. 

“Uhuh.” She can feel articulated metal beneath the rubber, and is reminded of the fact that her father had lost a limb of his own at some point. Giving it a tight squeeze, she nods, fighting back tears while letting a stressed laugh leave her lips. “Guess now I’m gonna look like your daughter though, huh?” A low chuckle joins her own and Dell nods.

“Suppose so, precious.” Releasing her hand, he reaches for the rolls of paper he brought with, offering them to the girl. “Thought you might wanna take a look at these.” A brief flash of excitement crosses her eyes as she takes the first from the stack and removes it’s rubber band, laying it out on her lap once the other gets up. Quickly finding the pencil located inside, she starts making notes on the draft while Dell is led aside by a quick gesture from the medic.

They migrate to the opposite end of the room, where they can still keep an eye on the girl, before the doctor speaks. “I’m worried, Mr. Conagher.” He states, frowning deeply. 

“Hey Dell! Medic!” Connie shoults from the other end of the room interrupting the conversation, a large grin plastered on her face. Both men look to her as she bursts out in excited giggles. “I’m the first person alive to ever teleport!” her parent laughs lightly, giving her a thumbs up before returning his attention to the conversation at hand.

The medic, for his part, only frowns deeper before carrying on. “As I was saying, she’s been unconscious for several days and most certainly we should have a severe case of shock on our hands. She seems to be taking it well for now, but in the long run you’ll likely want to hire a therapist of some kind. If you like, I can recommend one that won’t ask after the circumstances of the accident, and-” Nodding along as the other continues, the engineer’s gaze drifts to the near teenager sitting on the bed across the room, tongue sticking out as she smiles to herself and writes fast enough that Dell can only assume she’s redesigning the entire prosthetic he’d planned for her. She was going to be okay.

There would be trials and therapy and designing and building to do, but dang nabbit-

She would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look more cavities.


End file.
